“Close? No,” Dimitri said, though he grinned as he watched Ari. “With any luck she is not asking him anything about their former lives together. The woman has a mind like a steel trap, and Ari is still springing quite a few leaks.”
As if the queen suddenly came to the same conclusion, she strode forward, interrupting the reunion. “You caught us out, Edeena,” she said smoothly, speaking in English—a fact which wasn’t lost on the young woman. She was lovelier than Fran remembered her from where she’d seen her at the festival. “We’d hoped to keep Ari’s healthy return secret until tomorrow.”
“Ha! Then you shouldn’t have let him sneak out into the city.” Edeena also spoke in English, and she grinned around the room until she spotted Fran. “You!” she fairly shouted, and the sudden command in her voice was unnerving. You could always tell a first born. “You were with him weren’t you?” She swung her gaze back to Ari, and her expression didn’t waver. “Tell me she’s not your nurse. If you’ve fallen in love with your nurse I’m going to tell every last tabloid from here to Hungary, and you’re never going to hear the end of it.”
Despite herself, Fran couldn’t help but like the woman, but Ari answered smoothly. “Not my nurse,” he said. “My injuries were profound yes, but I was all but healed before my benefactors realized my identity and reached out to my parents a few weeks ago. By the time I arrived in Garronia, I was declared a full recovery.”
“Benefactors,” Edeena said, shaking her head. “There’s a story there.”
“Not one of any merit,” Stefan said mildly, but there was no denying the steel lacing his tone. “Tomorrow’s papers will say the same thing, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t know it now. Last June, flying in heavy storms, the prince was blown distinctly off course and crash-landed near an island off the coast of Turkey. He was rescued and tended to without the villagers knowing who he was, and he remained in their care for several months, recovering slowly. Shortly after he was officially declared dead, a fisherman who’d seen the coverage recognized him, and set about the process of notifying the royal family. He has been under a doctor’s care for the past several days, and is now ready to resume his life with the royal family.” Stefan gestured to Ari. “As you can see, he’s quite healthy.”
“Healthy and fit,” announced Kristos suddenly. He turned to his father. “Healthy enough to take onallhis roles. Even the one he foisted off on me.”
“Now Kristos,” Jasen raised his hands, but Dimitri snorted.
“I wondered how long it would take Kristos to realize he wouldn’t have to remain crown prince,” he said dryly.
“The Late Lamented Prince Returns,” Edeena agreed, a grin playing around her lips. She put her hands on her hips. “It’s good. It’ll stand up under cross examination of the press, and most of Ari’s adoring fans,” she winked at Ari, who seemed to be watching her with far too much affection for a friend, in Fran’s book. “But you’re going to need more help keeping the matchmakers off your back. With Kristos falling for an American and you kissing yet another American girl, there’s going to be an outcry.”
Fran opened her mouth to rebut the assertion that she was involved in any way with Ari, but Dimitri touched her arm. In that moment of her hesitation, it was the king’s quiet voice that filled the room.
“One of the most cherished features of Garronia is the freedom we grant our people—in life and in love,” he said. “That said, there is no need to rush the process. We have time to observe the old traditions.”
Ari stared at his father, clearly having no idea what he was talking about, but the queen clasped her hands together, her face suddenly radiant.
“A ball! You mean a ball. Not an Accession Ball, it’s far too soon for that, but something special, don’t you think? A celebration.”
Fran lifted her brows and the men in the room groaned, while Ari tried to keep up. This was her cue to exit stage right before Edeena refocused the attention on her.
She slipped behind Dimitri, glaring at him sternly to counter his mocking glance—and faded back to the door.
The halls of the royal palace seemed almost strange to her, and she’d only been gone a couple of days. She had no idea where the other girls were—probably in their rooms—but she couldn’t quite bring herself to meet up with them yet. So much had happened in such a short time. She needed time to regroup, re-center herself. Time to remember who she was, and the role she needed to play.
Fran walked down one long hallway, then another, then noticed a soft light filtering out from a room at the far end of the corridor. This part of the palace seemed abandoned, and she reached the room quickly, slipping inside as she glanced back over her shoulder. There was no one following her, she realized with relief. The royal family—probably all of Garronia—would be focusing on Ari for the foreseeable future. Exactly as it should be.
She scanned the room and realized she shouldn’t be surprised to find this place with the lights still lit. It was the royal gallery, home to generations of Garronois kings and queens. The most prominent portraits were of Catherine and Jasen, of course, but there were also several of the princes. Fran smiled as she saw a pint-sized Kristos, gazing up at his older brother with all the adoration a four-year-old could muster. And Aristotle, for his part, looked strong and fierce, his lips pressed together in a heart-breaking attempt to appear mature, and his gaze intent, as if the fate of all Garronia rested on his pudgy shoulders.
He’d been groomed to lead this country since he’d been very small, Fran knew. He’d return to that role, despite his current confusion. He’d already begun to piece things together, and what he didn’t know, he’d be told—as often as needed. Most of all he would be loved and supported, carefully shielded from harm until he was strong enough to fight his own battles once more.
Everyone deserved that, from a prince to a scrubby little girl.
A large wing-backed chair stood facing a couch in a formal conversational set, but it was the thick knit wrap draped over it that drew Fran most. Her dad had dozens of these shawls, the only things he’d kept from his own grandmother, and she’d treasured them. It’d been the hardest thing to leave behind when she’d finally walked out the door of Bert’s Bar and Grill for the last time. But unlike the Eiffel Tower, she hadn’t taken a single strand of the crocheted wraps. Dreams you could keep when creating a new life, but too many memories weighed you down.
Ari feltlike a weight was pressing his shoulders, and he struggled to maintain his composure as his homecoming transitioned from an intensely emotional personal welcome to a state event. Most of this was Edeena’s fault, but he couldn’t bring himself to chastise her.
Still, he grimaced as the familiar pain streaked through his brain, leaving fog in its wake. That pain had spiked when Edeena had entered the room, so strong that Ari’s eyes watered, and though it lessened markedly the longer she stayed, it never seemed to fade away. Had he felt more for Edeena than for the other members of his family? Surely not.
He studied her now, her head bent with the queen as they discussed something about a ball. He vaguely remembered state events, but they remained deliberately hazy, as did most of the recollections he’d had since breaching this room. He suspected his memory would return in fits and starts, but he couldn’t help thinking he was missing something significant. Something that would matter both to him and his family.
“How much of your life before do you truly remember?”
Ari didn’t turn his head. His father had moved over to him as Kristos, Stefan and a new man—who Ari recognized as Cyril Gerou, the royal family’s chief advisor—discussed the elements of the state address he would need to make. But Jasen was staying out of the fray for the moment, using the opportunity to ask his quiet question.
“I remember that I had a life,” Ari said, honestly. “I am certain that I am this person you all tell me I am. I remember bits and pieces—mostly from when I was very young, less as I grow older. I remembered Cyril without being introduced, and that I could trust him, but I can’t say I feel comfortable meeting anyone else of any standing.”
“You knew Edeena too?”
That was trickier. “I knew that I was supposed to know her, and that there was some tension around the memory. Then when she came at me all smiles, the tension was tempered with relief. But I don’t know why I think these things.”
